


Knock Three Times

by foxseal



Category: Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Domestic, First Meetings, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Strangers to Lovers, generally a mess, mentions of food allergy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-20 23:03:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16147391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxseal/pseuds/foxseal
Summary: Seongwoo and Minhyun embark on the most unproductive mutual pining period known to man—until one of them messes up and almost sends their neighbour to the ER.





	Knock Three Times

**Author's Note:**

> In a flurry of inspiration, I sat down and wrote this with pining onghwang in mind. Apparently my immediate subconscious decided they would be utter idiots who wouldn't be able to do a single thing right.
> 
> Title from [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wT5ms2Nvpco) oldie song I adore a lot. I am also noticing that smidges of nielwink in my fic has been programmed as a default setting in me. Nonetheless, readers, I hope you enjoy this piece! ♥

There are plenty worse arrangements to find yourself in.

Seongwoo, for one, can’t care less that Jihoon brings his boyfriend back home almost every single night in tow, even when the pair pretends to sneak in all giggly and mouselike only to defeat the most powerful noise-cancelling headphones Seongwoo owns with their continuous moans. He doesn’t even mind that he’s camping out on the couch as he prays everyday for the house hunt to turn a new leaf, nor that their gas bills are so exorbitantly high for a puny one-bedroom apartment on the edge of Seoul’s city centre. He possesses immense feelings of gratitude for the things he currently has in life: the company of trusted friends, a roof over his head, and an Internet connection with which he can access pirated books to peruse in the hopes of killing time and boredom borne from a period of unemployment—but if he was allowed the space to complain, address a certain dissatisfaction over _one tiny detail_ of his life—

“Daniel,” he says suddenly, cutting through his own thoughts. “Please stop chewing your cereal so loudly.”

Feeling wronged, Daniel frowns and hugs his bowl closer with a pout. “I’m just chewing _normally_.”

“Well you _normally_ chew so loud anyway, so please, shut it.”

Seongwoo closes his eyes and hears a loud crunch, making his eyebrow twitch.

“Cereal is supposed to be _soggy_ with milk. _How_ do you manage to eat it so noisily?”

“I’m just eating!”

“Well, I’m having a moment of clarity here, so I’d appreciate a bit of peace and quiet. Which can only be achieved if you are… not here.”

“I’m telling Jihoonie,” he complains, hopping off the small breakfast nook in their narrow kitchen. “You’re being annoying and cranky this morning.”

“Because you’re so _loud_ for eight o’clock, you’re making my ears hurt.”

“Nope,” mumbles Daniel leisurely as he walks out of the kitchen. “More like a case of blue balls. It’s because you haven’t fucked that cute boy from the third floor yet.”

Ah. Yes. _That_ is the dissatisfaction he wants to address.

  
  


* * *

 

 

 

The first time he saw the CBFT (Cute Boy From Third, as Jihoon has taken to calling him), Seongwoo was only just moving his things into the space he’d carved out for himself in Jihoon’s apartment. Being a fresh grad was definitely not fun, but Seongwoo’d never expected it to be this tough either—so when reality didn't align with the future he’d envisioned for himself, Seongwoo found himself nearly homeless, if it weren’t for Jihoon’s generosity of offering a place to stay until Seongwoo manages to find a steady job and can finance a small studio for himself.

That day, the elevator chose to skimp out on its responsibilities (as Seongwoo still believes to this moment) and had broken down, forcing him to carry his possessions all the way up to the fourth floor. Though he didn’t bring much, it was still a pain having to jog eight flights of stairs down to the ground floor and back up only to carry a couple of boxes; having an extra pair of hands or two would have been nice, but Jihoon had classes and Daniel had a track team meet to attend, so Seongwoo was unfortunately left to his own devices. 

He was down to lugging his last box up when he nearly ran a man over on his sixth flight of stairs—the stranger was quick enough to dodge his massive box but Seongwoo almost batted him down the steps when he spun round abruptly, meaning to apologise.

After he’d stopped saying _sorry, fuck, sorry_ in various orders, Seongwoo’s brain caught up quick enough to actually lower the box and face the poor victim of his panic. In hindsight, his life would have been so much easier to live if he had walked away with one last apology, dropped off his things and made himself at home on Jihoon’s couch exactly like he had planned.

But of course that was not what Seongwoo did—instead, he put his box down, looked up to see the sexiest man he’d ever laid eyes on, had his breath stolen, looked back down to catch his breath only to realise what he’d been carrying all along.

It was his box full of _stuffed toys_ , out of all the fucking garbage he has in his possession.

“Don’t worry, you didn’t hit me with your—um.” Oh god, Sexiest Man Alive was actually talking to him. He was definitely staring at the box. “Sorry, are you here to sell these…?”

“What? Oh god, no,” Seongwoo shook his head, horrified. “This is um, just my. Personal collection.” 

“Oh,” said Sexiest Man Alive, who smiled this heart achingly soft smile that had Seongwoo wanting to scream into his plushies but said nothing more.

“They’re just so cute,” was the first thing Seongwoo said in reply, after which he shook his head and tried to recalibrate his brain. “So… you live here?” was the follow-up dumb question to a dumb question he thought up of, and immediately he wanted to run away.

Sexiest Man Alive seemed to think the same thing. “Yeah, third floor. But I gotta go, so…” 

“Oh, yeah. Of course.” 

The stranger gave him one last smile before slipping off down the stairs to disappear out of Seongwoo’s sight, only to enter every one of his daydreams from that day onwards.

 

 

* * *

  
  


“He didn’t even say ‘see you later’! I mean, isn’t that the standard common courtesy you should say to someone?”

Jihoon sighs and places the slice of pizza he took gingerly back onto the cardboard box. They’re having leftovers for early lunch on a Saturday morning, and even though Daniel’s gone through a bowl of cereal apparently his irrational hunger warranted enough of Jihoon’s concern to incentivise his ordering them three boxes of pizza.

“If we’re talking about CBFT again, I’m going to lose my appetite.” 

“I’ve _already_ lost my appetite,” mutters Daniel, who’s leaned onto Jihoon’s side with a pout.

“Geez, you guys have no compassion for my plight,” complains Seongwoo petulantly. “This is what happens when you fall in love. All of a sudden you forget about the tragedies of being a bachelor.” 

“You make it sound like it’s a crisis, hyung.”

“It _is!_ ” whines Seongwoo, draping himself over the cushion in his lap. “For all I know, I’ve freaked out CBFT forever. He probably thinks I have a plush kink or something.”

Daniel gives him a look. “I don’t think that would be the first thing on someone’s mind if they saw a huge box of stuffed toys…”

“And anyway there are worse kinks to have,” quips Jihoon, biting through his finally recovered slice of pizza.

“I’m sick of this mindset,” sighs Seongwoo. “‘There are worse things to have, to do, worse situations to be in…’ I keep telling myself that but maybe I don’t want something to just be better than something else. Maybe I want something to be actually _good_ for once in my life.” 

“Listen, hyung, we’d totally be sympathetic towards you and your problem.” There’s real concern in Jihoon’s eyes. “But you haven’t even done anything to try and make the situation _better_. Have you even tried talking to CBFT?”

“I’ve never bumped into him again since that day…”

“Seriously? Minhyun-hyung’s working from home, though, so where does he go off to all day?"

Two pairs of eyes seem to burn holes on the side of Jihoon’s face, the room suddenly so silent you can hear the grain of a rice drop on the wooden floors.

And then all hell breaks loose. 

“What,” deadpans Daniel in the most exasperated tone ever, before Seongwoo lets out a scream and practically leaps off the couch to launch himself at Jihoon.

“Jihoon! What the hell!” he shakes the smaller boy by the shoulders. “Are you telling me you knew him all this time? And did _absolutely nothing??”_

“Yo, hey, calm down, to be fair I don’t know _know_ him,” says Jihoon in an attempt to defend himself. “Jinyoung moved in with a senior from his old university and I saw him once when they went out to go grocery shopping, and he fit your description, so.”

“Moved in with Jinyoung?” Seongwoo narrows his eyes. “Are they like. Together?”

“What? _No,_ ” protests Jihoon. “Now if I were to keep _that_ information from you, I’d be a really shitty friend.”

“Oh my goooood, you could have solved my problem ages ago.”

Daniel voices his approval with muffled noises, mouth stuffed with pizza, but Jihoon frowns and shakes his head. “No, hyung, you’re a grown man. You don’t need my help with this. If it’s meant to happen, then you or fate will find a way. If it’s not meant to happen, then it won’t.” 

“That’s cold…”

“What?” Jihoon looks at his boyfriend, hurt. “I don’t want to meddle in others’ romantic lives.”

“It’s not meddling if I _want_ you to get involved.”

Rolling his eyes as if to say _what a child_ , Jihoon asks, “Then what am I supposed to do for you?”

  


* * *

  
  


“Please introduce us.”

Looking up from where he’s trying to complete his postgrad applications, Jinyoung blinks and stares intently at Minhyun’s slightly pink face.

“I feel like I’m back in high school.”

The noise Minhyun lets out from his throat sounds like a dying animal. “It’s just,” he bites his lip. “I’m not exactly on frequent speaking terms with Jihoon, and it would be strange for me to use Daniel as an excuse to visit Jihoon because he doesn’t even technically live there, even weirder if I use him as an excuse to visit Jihoon as an excuse to see—“

“I think you’re overthinking this,” interrupts Jinyoung with a sigh, already turning back to his laptop. “Just bring some cookies or kimchi, say you heard someone’s recently moved in and that you’re just dropping by to say hi.”

“But that was more than a month ago!” groans Minhyun. “I’ve been so busy with researching settings that I forgot to do it, and by the time I’m free _and_ in the right headspace to remember, plus trying to work up the courage after practically blanking out isn’t exactly the easiest thing to do. By the time I’ve done all these things, it’s way past the acceptable housewarming period.”

There aren’t many things that can distract Jinyoung from his chosen task on a normal basis, but Minhyun freaking out must definitely top the list because he’s suddenly closing his laptop, spinning on his chair and facing him with a serious expression. Minhyun, suddenly feeling conscious with the attention, tries to stop blinking so much as he is wont to do when he’s freaking out.

“You really like this guy, don’t you?”

Minhyun thinks back to the time he bumped into Seongwoo on the stairs, then named as Sweet Stranger in Minhyun’s head, remembers the comical expression he had on as he fumbled with his boxes, the pretty curve of his eyes as he apologised, his overflowing _politeness_ that made it almost impossible for Minhyun to string two words together, let alone a proper conversation. Minhyun thinks of his slightly uneven teeth that made Minhyun want to see him smile every day since, and Jinyoung is right, he's acting exactly like a lovesick high school boy harbouring his first crush on a sweet, well-loved yet unattainable classmate.

“Is that shallow of me? To think he’s really cute and want to know him better because of it?”

 Jinyoung shrugs. “It’s natural, I guess. What I’m more worried about is how flustered you’re getting over this guy. You’re usually less,” he makes a vague gesture in the air with his hand. “Like this.”

Even Minhyun can’t make heads or tails of this desperation, and he admits to Jinyoung as much—to which he only smiles mysteriously.

“I guess that’s how you know something good can come out of this.”

  


 

* * *

  
  
  


Their first proper meeting couldn’t have gone worse.

“I’m so, so, so sorry.” This time it’s Minhyun’s turn to apologise profusely as he taps away at his phone, trying to order an online cab to the nearest clinic as quick as he can with shaking hands. “I really—I didn’t even know such an allergy exists, Jesus—“

“Wait, you don’t need to order a cab—“ A loud wheeze, then Seongwoo is bending over hacking his lungs out and smacking his lips together afterwards. “I can drive.”

“No way, not in this condition.” Minhyun has dragged Seongwoo out to the curb outside their apartment block, and now they’re standing side-by-side shivering in the chilly autumn night. The uncomfortable silence settles between them as heavy as the cold air, but no amount of thick coats or hotpacks can dispel it.

“…Sorry,” mutters Seongwoo as best as he can through his swollen tongue. “I wish I knew.”

A deep breath, then Minhyun lets out a soft laugh because he can’t believe someone like Seongwoo is real. Someone nice enough to _apologise_ for having an allergic reaction. “How were you supposed to know you were allergic to dried fruits? It’s completely my fault.”

When Minhyun suggested he brought over some pizza or fried chicken, Jinyoung had called him boring, so Minhyun had gone out and bought a few packets of dried fruits imported from Thailand in an attempt to bring some excitement to their otherwise dreary adult life. He’d never imagined it would backfire so badly.

“Jihoon probably hate our guts by now, huh?” chuckles Seongwoo. “After all he did to clear his schedule with Daniel to host the dinner party so we could get to know each other…” 

“They had plans already?”

“They were supposed to go to a PC bang ‘date’.”

“Ah, I can imagine Daniel getting pissed over that. I mean, at least they can still go now. Jinyoung had to cancel a meeting with a career advisor from our old uni. He’d probably lie and say it’s okay but I _know_ he’s going to be annoyed.” 

“That’s the worst case,” agrees Seongwoo, voice soft and Minhyun feels his heart slow down and his hands from shaking.

The doctor manages to prescribe Seongwoo a few medicines to reduce the swelling in his mouth and a few pills just in case the reaction kicks in again for no reason at all, but reassures them both it is nothing serious and will disappear soon enough.

“I’m really sorry,” repeats Minhyun on the walk back home, out of both overwhelming guilt and a lack of anything else to say. “I could have killed you.”

 If Seongwoo’s face isn’t so swollen, his grin would have probably been wide enough to expose his adorable teeth. “That’s overdramatic.” 

“You wouldn’t be saying that if you could see your tongue now,” sighs Minhyun. “It was meant for us to get the chance to talk more, too.”

At this, Seongwoo’s eyes widen and he struggles with his syllables before saying, “So it was a set-up?!”

“I’m sorry?” Minhyun really doesn’t want to force the man to speak anymore than he has, so he tries to interpret his flailing and puts two and two together before realising— _oh._ “You mean, you think our friends set us up?”

Nodding so enthusiastically he almost trips over a misplaced brick on the curb, Seongwoo says, “Yeah!”

“That, uh.” Minhyun bites his lip and looks away, wondering if he should be transparent or not—but he’s literally caused his crush to harbour an allergic reaction, so he thinks nothing can go more horribly wrong than that. “Perhaps I should tell you that it was my idea…”

“Nope,” Seongwoo shakes his head. “ _Mine_.”

Minhyun tries to digest this, sputters a little, and says almost defensively, “What the hell. You know you could have knocked and said hi, instead? You never showed up, and I thought you weren’t interested in me at all because I couldn’t even keep up a proper conversation.”

“You too,” frowns Seongwoo. “Plushies.”

It takes five seconds for Minhyun to catch up before he’s bursting out laughing, eyes scrunched up and hand clutching at Seongwoo’s coat in an attempt to stand upright.

“You thought you scared me off with _plushies_?”

“You were so… cool. Not the plushies type.” Seongwoo grins. “You were CBFT for a long time.” 

“Excuse me?”

“Cute Boy From Third.”

“Stop,” Minhyun gasps when he stops laughing, wiping a tear from the corner of his eyes. “You were Sweet Stranger.”

“Maybe now I can just be Sweet Seongwoo.”

They’re almost at their apartment block, and being a homebody nearly all his life Minhyun experiences, for the first time, an intense reluctance to go back home for fear of ending something he’s wanted for so long. He’s learnt a lot tonight about Seongwoo—what his interests are, his dream of becoming a professional photographer, holding his own exhibitions, his willingness to collaborate with Minhyun’s dream of publishing a personal poetry book that Minhyun desperately hopes wasn’t just a joke or polite courtesy—and call him greedy, but Minhyun wants to know more. So much more, and while he knows rationally there’s always another tomorrow, there’s a certain hunger that fuels a sense of urgency within him—the hunger to get closer to Seongwoo, like he’s the torch Minhyun the Moth can’t help but be drawn to all the time.

Maybe this is what leads him to blurt out, “If you didn’t have a swollen tongue, I would kiss you right now,” and not regret it when Seongwoo laughs loudly in return.

“Raincheck."

Scratch that. Maybe their first meeting isn’t so bad after all.

  


* * *

  
  


It turns out to be the best first meeting they could ever have, because it gave Minhyun something he desperately needed: an excuse. 

Over the next few days, Minhyun finds himself knocking at Jihoon’s door more times than he can care to count under the pretense of checking up on Seongwoo and his allergy.

“I feel personally responsible for it,” he justifies himself after the fifth day of standing at Jihoon’s doorstep, at which point Seongwoo has _obviously_ recovered from a barely-major food allergy and Daniel has taken to grinning at him knowingly from behind the door. “Please let me check up on him today.” 

“Do you want to do the check up outside sometime, maybe?” Jihoon asks, voice innocent but face clearly _not_. “Like, check his tongue out in the sun or take his shirt off at the beach to check for rashes?” 

“Jihoon!”

“What?” Jihoon twists away from Daniel’s grip, grinning. “If Seongwoo-hyung’s not going to say it, someone has to.”

Just then Seongwoo emerges from behind the pair, hair a little bit mussed and wearing an old university T-shirt that hangs slightly low around his neck. Minhyun has never felt his face grow so hot so quickly. 

“Geez guys, don’t scare my guest away.”

“ _My guest,_ he calls him—“

“Okay, Jihoon, let’s get back to our game,” Daniel announces before dragging his giggling boyfriend by the hood of his hoodie.

They end up curled together on Seongwoo’s bed-slash-living-space that is the couch with his laptop on their laps, browsing through openings for photography jobs that Seongwoo may be interested in applying for.

“Being a photography major, connection’s probably the most important thing to have, but it’s something I didn’t really… well, _get_ in uni, you know? I was just focusing on having fun.”

Minhyun traces the softer curve of Seongwoo’s jawline, so different to his slightly hard angled ones up to the moles on his cheek. “Hmm. I get it.”

This is what Minhyun appreciates most about spending time with Seongwoo—they’re comfortable discussing both trivial, mindless things and matters with more substantial effects on their lives. As if Seongwoo wasn’t already perfect in Minhyun’s eyes, he somehow transcends that even more by proving Minhyun he can be a reliable figure to lean on, a rational partner in conversation and discussion when needed and is willing to be there for Minhyun in both the fun times and, perhaps, in the less fun ones.

Somehow, it makes him almost stupidly brave.

Licking his lips a little, Minhyun shifts to rise from his slouched position as Seongwoo packs away his laptop, meaning to head off and prepare dinner for the two of them. “Hey. There’s something I have to do something to make sure your allergy’s okay.”

“Hm?” asks Seongwoo distractedly. “What is it?”

Not knowing where the courage is coming from, Minhyun pulls the front of Seongwoo’s shirt to turn him around, cups his face and slots their lips together, swallowing the surprised moan Seongwoo lets out and swiping his tongue over soft, soft lips. He brings a hand to Seongwoo’s hair as he nibbles on his bottom lip, once, twice, pulling back and they’re really kissing now, the sound of their lips meeting, Seongwoo’s wandering hand along the small of his back and the noises of encouragement all making Minhyun feel extremely hot under his collar.

“Geez, Minhyun, that was lame,” grins Seongwoo coyly when the pull away for breath, winding an arm around Minhyun’s neck to draw him even closer. “If you wanted to kiss me, you could’ve just said so.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“Oh, so you’re Mr. Fun Man now, huh?”

“Baby,” the endearment slips out of him before he can help it, and from Seongwoo’s faltering smirk he knows it’s a good call. “I can be plenty fun if you want."

  


* * *

  
  


“Is it just me or is Seongwoo-hyung smiling too much?”

“I mean, he’s smiley in general anyway…”

“No, Daniel, just. Look in the kitchen.”

“What. He’s smiling at the garbage.”

“I know. _What the fuck._ ”

  


* * *

  


“Have you heard about the old woman that moved out of the ground floor apartment?” Seongwoo says over their shared celebratory sundae at an ice cream parlour near their place, bought with his _earned_ money from his new photographer gig at a small, independent fashion magazine.

Minhyun grins playfully at him over his spoon, kicking Seongwoo's shins lightly each time he swings his feet. What a child. “The one who always used to buy humongous potted plants for her tiny garden?”

“Yes, her. Apparently they’re renting it out for cheaper because her unit faces the road or something, and when I said I didn’t mind road noise Jihoon told me to take it now that I have a job.”

“I can’t imagine what you’ve done to upset him,” says Minhyun with a fake pout. “It’s not like you were a nuisance at all, sitting there while Jihoon and Daniel wanted some quiet time!” 

“Not like my presence made a difference—god, you should have been there. Do you know how much stamina those two have?” Seongwoo looks around the parlour with wide eyes, leaning in to say in a scandalised mock-whisper, “A lot!”

Minhyun tips his head back to laugh and Seongwoo grins along, always feeling pride bubble up in him whenever he makes his boyfriend laugh. He’s made it a promise to himself, after all, to be the person who brings the most happiness to Minhyun in his life. “What shame. But listen,” Minhyun’s eyes glint. “I’m finally going to be a published poet—not a big deal, it’s a small publishing company but—“

“Minhyun!”

“—funny thing is, now that I’ve got an okay source of income, Jinyoung’s told me to rent out that exact same flat, too.”

Now Seongwoo is grinning almost maniacally, ice cream all but forgotten as he reaches out to take Minhyun’s hand in his and toy with his fingers, trying to find an excuse not to climb the table right there and then and kiss the living daylights out of him. “Huh. How inconvenient. Guess I’m going to have to fight you for the flat, huh?”

“Give up now, you’ll lose.” Minhyun squeezes his hand. “I’m obviously the better tenant.”

“How so?”

“For one I actually clean out the coffee maker. And everything else in the house.”

“…Okay, fair.”

“And secondly,” Minhyun leans in. “I would totally have checked with the landlord to let my boyfriend have his own studio space in the living room.”

Feeling his chest constrict in surprise, Seongwoo’s jaw drops open and he blinks at Minhyun in disbelief. “You’re kidding, right?”

He’s even letting Minhyun get away with a completely self-satisfied, victoriously smug grin with how floored he is at the moment. “Nope. You can even have light fixtures installed, if you need them. And I even got you baskets. You know. For your plushies.”

Suddenly overwhelmed, Seongwoo buries his face in his arm on the table and whines, long and loud until he feels a hand pat the back of his head in Minhyun’s signature soothing motions. “How did I get so lucky?”

There’s hand cupping his cheek and lifting him up from his hiding space—once he’s emerged, he finds himself staring at his boyfriend, who’s got the most tender smile on and a fond, almost lovestruck expression on his face, eyes full of wonder and taking in Seongwoo like he can’t get enough.

“Stop stealing my lines, will you?” he says, before leaning in for a kiss.

Seongwoo can’t wait to move all his boxes again—maybe for good, this time.  
  
  
  



End file.
